Well, ain't that quaint
by Crimson Assassin
Summary: In an airport in Japan, Jin Kazama is a bit startled to find a ruffled AWOL korean. (Tekken 4/yaoi) Chp. 3 up ^_^
1. Aitaku nakatta kedo...chp 1

_Aitaku nakatta kedo..._  
  
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Dark cloth draped a well defined face, hooding his features in a shroud of dangerous mystery. Deep brown foreboding eyes scanned the giant bustling international airport and he let a worn duffel bag drop from the gloved hand at his right side. He had returned to a land that he had painfully tried to erase from his memory…and yet here he was again, back in his homeland of Japan, and ready for the 4th Iron Fist Tournament. He grunted at the irony of it all. He could have just ended it all back at the 3rd tournament, taken everything there with him, including that bastard of a man that claimed to be his grandfather, Heihachi Mishima. He clenched his fist angrily, breathing out the musty cigarette smell. But he hadn't ended it. He refused to take the lives of those innocent. In a way, the Demon residing in his soul was almost the exact opposite of his true inner self. He loathed his Father for his curse, and he loathed his grandfather's betrayal.   
At that moment a woman and her small child rushed by, shoving past him in any way but politely. He took the less than subtle hint with a crease of his eyebrows and grabbed his single bag, removing himself from the busy flow of traffic and headed towards the parking lot. He reached into his back pocket, grasping at his wallet and grumbling at the estimation of the cost of a taxi to the nearest hotel. Suddenly his eyes met that of the one other person he had tried so desperately to forget…the Blood Talon.  
Amber eyes darkened, immediately drinking in the sight before them. The Japanese youth only stood speechless. The red hair that was once so long and untamed was cut short, and spiked in all different directions. Features that once glowed with disobedience had a more disciplined look to them -not much, but enough worth mentioning-. Dog tags rested against a muscled chest clad in a dusty Korean military uniform. A dirty little satchel hung loosely from a pale hand.  
  
"A-aren't you …?"  
"…Hwoarang…"  
  
The Korean looked annoyed as he strutted up to hooded fighter and looked him over.  
He pulled the hood off roughly, suddenly snatching his hand back as if he had just burned himself.  
  
"Jin Kazama! It is you! You've come for the tournament, haven't you!?"  
  
They stared at each other for a few moments before Jin nodded and pulled the hood back up over his head. He was about to make his retreat when Hwoarang blocked his path with his own body.  
  
"W-Where are you going? You can't leave me, I don't know how to get there!"  
  
Jin fell over.  
  
"W-What do you mean you don't know how to get there…!?"  
  
Hwoarang swirled away from him and crossed his arms over his chest with a humph.  
  
"I just escaped from the Korean Military to get here. I didn't have a lot of time to pick up many details…"  
  
Jin sweatdropped.  
  
"Well…what were you're plans before you met up with me? What were you going to do…!?"  
  
Hwoarang turned back around, amber flashing mischievously.  
  
"I hadn't really though about that! All I could think about was kicking your ass again!"  
  
He grinned and snickered.  
  
Jin shifted the grip on his bag, scratching his upper arm.  
  
"Hwoarang, ties mean there were no victors…and you did NOT kick my ass."  
  
Hwoarang laughed, obviously joking, rewarded with an actual genuine smile from his stoic archival.  
  
"I was going to go call a taxi and find a hotel. Did you bring any money?"  
  
Hwoarang turned away again, shaking his head 'no'. Jin took that as his cue.   
  
"Would you care to accompany me then?"  
  
Hwoarang stared at him for awhile before he raised a slender eyebrow.  
  
"C-can we do that…? Last time I saw you I wanted to knock your head off…and you probably felt the same about me. Wouldn't this be kinda weird…?  
  
"Alright, be that way then."  
  
Jin made to walk past him, smirking proudly to himself for calculating the red head so accurately. Hwoarang placed an uneasy hand to his shoulder. Knew it.  
  
"Um…if it's alright with you…I mean…Well, you know what I mean."  
  
He'd matured. He wasn't the same young fighter with the one tracked mind aimed solely for revenge. He was beginning to think things through and was a lot less difficult for Jin to handle than he was three years ago.  
  
Hwoarang picked up his tiny bag and followed Jin down the wide airport corridor. It was so packed Hwoarang practically had to hold Jin's hand, instead grabbing his shoulder whenever they were almost separated by the crowd. Businessmen chatted on tiny cell phones and carried leather briefcases, shoving their way through the riot. Hwoarang wasn't sure what he was most uncomfortable with; brushing up against so many strangers, or relying on Jin Kazama to lead him safety through them. Finally they reached the giant glass exits lining the front wall, Hwoarang breathing a sigh of relief. Jin looked back at him and smirked, Hwoarang made a face.  
  
"What?"  
"Nothing. Let's go."  
  
While Jin signaled for a taxi Hwoarang grabbed a cigarette from his front pocket and searched his body with his freehand for a light. He grumbled in a huff as he noted he hadn't stolen the one sitting on his tent mate's cabinet as he left earlier that morning. He let it hang from his lips as he straightened his dirty uniform cuffs, glancing up suddenly as a flame danced at the tip of his unlit cigarette. He nearly fell backwards at the sight of the lighter's owner.   
  
"B-bryan Fury!? What are you doing here!?"   
  
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I know I write the characters a little weird, me and my OCCness...^^; I'm sorry if I've totally ruined the characters for you ^_^; *double sweatdrop*   
  



	2. Mou kagen ni shiro yo! chp 2

_Mou kagen ni shiro yo!_  
  
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The cop flipped his silver zippo shut and pocketed it in a light beige trench coat. He seemed somewhat amused at the young Korean's mortified expression. They had never fought in the last tournament, but contenders had to seek what ever little information they could of the other fighters, and Bryan Fury was definitely one of those everyone knew about.   
  
"Why do you think I'm here?"  
  
Jin had caught wind of the other man's presence just little after exiting his plane, not seeing it necessary to get 'reacquainted' at that moment. However, the situation changed, and Bryan Fury had taken the initiative to make first contact himself, confronting Hwoarang straight out. Jin decided to intervene now rather than wait for the Korean to get himself into trouble.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Fury."  
  
Hwoarang stepped back as Jin practically walked between them, shielding his body with his own broader one. Bryan held his hand out in a gesture of Peace. Jin took it.  
  
"Very good to see you again, Mr. Kazama."  
  
They made small idle chitchat about their plans for the tournament where Bryan confessed that he wasn't even sure he'd get in and hadn't received an invitation. Jin went back to signaling the taxi when Hwoarang confessed he hadn't even known they gave invitations. After a few seconds of uncomfortable silence, Jin mentioned for Hwoarang and they parted company with little words of farewell and good luck.  
  
As the Cab driver placed there few belongings in the trunk, Jin winced at the stale smell of cheap perfume and tabacco. Hwoarang jumped right in.   
  
The first few unpleasant minutes of the ride went by with absolutely no talking. Jin was still trying to cope with the fact that Hwoarang had cut his beautiful hair while Hwoarang was trying get his bearings about him. He couldn't remember anything about Japan to save his life!   
  
"I told the driver to take us to a Hotel right outside of Tokyo. I've stayed there a few times and it's pretty reliable."  
  
Jin coughed and Hwoarang tore his vision away from the window.  
  
"…Huh? Did you say something?"  
  
Jin shook his head disapprovingly, but grinned while he did it.  
  
"I said…when did you learn Japanese?" (lie)  
  
Hwoarang looked down at his feet, trying to recall.  
  
"I guess while I was learning tae kwan do from my master Baek. He used to tell me stories about the Tekken tournaments, telling me it'd be a good thing to know if I ever decided participate in one, considering he didn't speak a word of japanese when he was in it. I…guess it came in handy?"   
  
He smiled. Jin smiled back.  
  
"I guess so."  
  
Silence. The cabby glanced at them in the rear view mirror. Hwoarang turned back to the window.   
  
  
As the taxi pulled up to the curb of the hotel Hwoarang glanced uneasily at Jin. Jin noticed the pair of eyes on him and turned his attention to red head.  
  
"What is it?"  
  
Hwoarang tensed.  
  
"Well…I…I kinda feel bad about…"  
  
Jin pulled the hood off, smiling.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'll pay for everything."  
  
He popped his door open and was about to get out when he felt the unfamiliar weight of a hand placed upon his thigh. Jin was a bit shocked at the ferocity of the hazel eyes that pinned him in his spot.  
  
"Why…Why are you being so damned nice to me!? What have I ever done for you!?"  
  
The last question saddened him. He placed a hand over Hwoarang's and shook his head again. When he looked up he noticed Hwoarang's eyes had softened a little, lonely and longing for companionship but not having any idea how to ask for it.  
  
"Let's just say…we're starting over."  
  
With that, he stood and exited, leaving Hwoarang sitting in confusion.  
  
  
The man at the cluttered front desk pushed thick black rimmed glasses back up the bridge of his nose, looking disappointed at the two young men that just walked in.  
  
"How may I help you two gentlemen?"  
  
The muscled chest of the japanese youth prodded out even from beneath his thick hooded oversized navy sweatshirt.  
  
"Do you have vacancy?"  
  
The man looked him over, then over at the young red head that stood a bit separated from them.  
  
"Well, sir…we do have a single vacancy…but it doesn't have two beds."  
  
Hwoarang shot a questioning glare to Jin, deciding now a better time than any to try and bail but Jin's voice cut him off.  
  
"We'll take it."  
  
The man smiled, looking as if a heavy weight had just been lifted from his tiny shoulders.  
  
"Yes sir."  
  
Hwoarang could only stare at Jin as he went over the cost. This evening was just going too far! What on earth was going to happen NEXT!? Hwoarang didn't even want to think about it!   
  
"Hwoarang, I said let's go."  
  
Hwoarang coughed and followed Jin up to their room.  
  
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I know I write the characters a little weird, me and my OCCness...^^; I'm sorry if I've totally ruined the characters for you ^_^; *double sweatdrop* 


	3. Namida shini Omae ni Kaerou. chp 3

Wow! ^___^ I've gotten so many nice replies about this story…and I'm so new to this stuff too! I'm so happy/excited/grateful! ^_____^ You guys are so cool! *Is happy* Thanks so much for reading~! ^_^ ^_^ ^_^ v   
  
Namida shini Omae ni kaerou  
  
~*~  
  
The Hotel's cheap, last vacant room was as small as the unlikely duo had guessed. There was nothing more than a tiny bed, and a night stand with a lamp and army green phone next to a purple jar full of scented leaves on it. There was a paned window on the far wall that gave way to a beautiful, brick wall view. Mocha colored paint chipped and curled in strips in all corners of the plain, thin, drywall establishment. Alcohol and cigarette stench sank into everything, not hidden under the heady, lavender potpourri. Hwoarang frowned.  
  
"Dude…What the…?"  
  
Jin, who had taken the lead, dropped his worn duffel bag to the stained, brown carpet with a 'pack', cover of the concrete flooring beneath the thin, mahogany matting disguise revealed. Hwoarang frowned deeper and closed his eyes.  
  
"It's gonna be SO cold in here tonight-"  
"God, you complain a lot!"  
  
With a cheerful grin, Jin turned and plopped down into the simple, single white sheet covered mattress. The overused springs angrily hissed in protest as they lamely took the fighter's weight. He crossed his arms behind his head as he closed his eyes contentedly.  
  
"What are YOU so happy about!?"  
  
Hwoarang, arms crossed over his chest, leaned against the doorway, military issued satchel still tight in his frustrated, white-knuckled grip as he glared,  
  
"You'd figure a rich pretty-boy like you could do better than THIS!", he grunted to emphasize his point. His reply was a light chuckle.  
  
In reluctant defeat, the Korean lowered his guard. Throwing his 'luggage' on the floor next to Jin's, he took a cautious seat at the very foot of the bed. Jin cracked open an eye, still grinning to himself. Hwoarang refused to make eye contact.  
  
"Does it really make you that uncomfortable? I never figured _you_, of all people, to be the shy type."  
"Lay off it, jerk. This is all your fault."  
"What is?"  
"…"  
  
There was a long pause. Amber eyes lowered even further,  
  
"This…this whole thing. I'm so…well, honestly, _confused._ Something about this is…cool and all…but…I mean…I'm sitting here trying to hold a civilized conversation with…_Jin Kazama_."  
  
Jin was seriously taken aback. Was it true that Hwoarang, that hot-headed, trouble making, no-good street punk...(Hwoarang sneezed)...could he really have put so much thought into this? Did he _genuinely_ care about where this newfound friendship took them? Would they be able to remain friends, even after the tournament? Did the _Blood Talon_ really want that?  
  
Jin sat up, crossing his legs Indian style and resting his forearms on his tight, blue jean clad thighs. The red head stared a hole into the cheap, moldy floor, loosing himself in thought and self-pity.  
  
"Hwoarang. You'd make conversing a lot easier if you'd look up every once and a while so I'd know if you're still conscious or not."  
  
Hwoarang looked up briefly, catching Jin's chocolate gaze for the briefest of seconds before tearing them back down to his hands in his lap.  
  
"There." He mumbled pathetically. It was Jin's turn to frown.  
  
"Well, I'll start off by saying 'I know what you mean'," Jin scratched the back of his neck, a little nervous now for the oddest reason, "I never expected to be in a situation quite like this with…_you_. I've always wanted to get…to get to know you better but…"  
  
"-But I was jackass and told you off whenever we were in the same room together."  
  
"Uh...yeah, kinda."  
  
Hwoarang raked a pale, slender hand through his soft, orange mop, biting his lower lip, pink gently staining his cheeks.  
  
"Yeah...well...uh," he coughed, "Sorry about that and stuff...I guess."  
  
Jin laughed, if for nothing else but to ease the tension,  
  
"Hey, it wasn't entirely your fault. I didn't help by shooting back."  
  
Hwoarang smiled, looking down, now, at his powder blue sneakers. (Which TOTALLY didn't match his outfit. Lol)  
  
"Damn, you made some pretty stupid comebacks then."  
  
Jin grinned, "Hey, shut up."  
  
Hwoarang glanced up slyly and cocked an eyebrow, "Was that an example?"  
  
Jin shook his head, then jumped and grabbed him in a headlock, tension miraculously broken for the moment as they rough-housed on the squeaky bed over who's insults were the nastiest.  
  
"How's _that_ for your comebacks? Huh? Huh?" Jin forced between noogies as Hwoarang tried desperately to free himself, "Think you're clever _now_, little Korean boy?"  
  
They were both laughing, laughing and playing like two old buddies who had spent their childhood together. Hwoarang finally escaped and jumped back, gasping for breath between fits of laughter as the force of his disentanglement managed to knock Jin backwards over the side of the bed into the nook between the mattress and the wall. He came around to find the raven haired youth sprawled on his back, legs still partly hanging from the bed, cursing through a vengeful, but playful grin.  
  
"I'd ask if you were okay...but that'd be too pansy-ass," Hwoarang smirked, extending a hand to help him up. Jin allowed Hwoarang to heave them both back onto the bed. They sat smiling innocently at each other for a few moments before they both pounced again.  
  
After a good 15 minutes of tickle attacks, something Jin found to his advantage, and ear flicking, which Hwoarang found amusing, the boys collapsed into the springs next to each other. At least it wasn't as cold anymore, right?  
  
They laid content with the silence for the first time, the only sound being their heavy breathing and synchronized thudding of their rapidly beating hearts in their heaving chests. When they at last calmed, a good few minutes later, Hwoarang smiled.  
  
"I think...I like being your friend, Jin."  
  
To be continued  
  
~*~  
  
I was in a playful mood because of all the reviews. ^_^ I'm sorry if this chapter's a little weird...lol ^_^ It's also 3:43 in the morning so I'm in Zombie mode. I'll probably have to delete it tomorrow after I realize it's all crap from a rambling insomniac.  
  
  
  



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